Work Text:
Khaotung found himself stark naked.
Literally, completely nude.
He could see his own flat stomach when he looked down—well, not completely flat. He had hardly been to the gym since the wrap of THK, and a soft layer of fat had accumulated there, but if he took a deep breath, the outline of muscle could still be faintly seen. Looking further down, he saw his slender, straight legs, and… the part hanging quietly between them.
His cock.
It just hung there in the thick bush of pubic hair, not yet awake, soft and drooping.
Well, seeing his own naked body wasn’t particularly special; he was already all too familiar with it. But—when he looked around and realized he was surrounded by his GMM colleagues, things became different.
He was standing on the GMM company outing bus!
Mix and Earth were sitting in seats not far away. Earth seemed to be asleep, his head resting on Mix’s shoulder, while Mix was completely focused on the game on his phone screen, his fingers moving rapidly. Khaotung hurriedly covered his crotch with his hands. Thankfully, Mix was fully immersed in the virtual battle and didn’t look up once.
When he turned to the other side, it was the same dilemma. Dunk and Ryu were huddled together, holding up a phone with the camera in wide-angle mode, its view almost covering the entire bus. Khaotung didn’t know where to cover now—should he keep covering his cock, or should he cover his face?
—In the end, he chose to cover his burning face but couldn’t help peeking through his fingers at Dunk’s phone screen. To his surprise, the screen didn’t show a naked man as he had imagined.
The camera was indeed filled with GMM colleagues. As Dunk moved the phone, First’s sleeping face drifted into the edge of the frame.
Oh, that’s cute, Khaotung thought.
His good friend, First, was leaning back against the seat, facing backward. His overly long bangs fell softly, half-covering his handsome brows and eyes, his entire face looking exceptionally gentle in sleep.
But this appreciation didn’t last long. Soon, Khaotung bizarrely realized that there was… another sleeping version of himself on the screen. Also leaning against the backrest, slightly turned, only half his face visible, his lips unconsciously puckered in sleep…
That was fucking him.
Khaotung turned around in shock and saw the exact same scene as on the screen. “Khaotung” was indeed sleeping soundly alongside First.
If that was Khaotung, then who—or what—was “he” now?!
His memory clearly told him he was Khaotung! He found it unbelievable.
Amid his shock, a figure suddenly bumped into him—it was Ryu getting up to retrieve something from the overhead luggage rack. “Ah!” Khaotung cried out in pain, unable to dodge in time, but Ryu not only didn’t stop, he didn’t even seem to notice him at all, walking straight past.
As if “he” were air.
What the fuck is this?
Khaotung screamed, but no one found it strange. No one spared him a second glance.
He was air. He was… a consciousness in a dream? Or an out-of-body experience?
Khaotung accepted this setting. Thinking about it carefully, it was actually kind of… fun? The annual company outings were pretty much the same and quite boring, and this sudden “soul departure” was like an unexpected prize.
He decided to do something interesting before they reached their destination. Starting with teasing his best friend.
Khaotung easily passed through the seats in front of him, arriving directly in front of First. He reached out, wanting to pinch his friend’s face.
Strangely, his fingertips actually touched soft skin. He could feel the warm, solid sensation, but First’s cheek didn’t dent under his squeeze. It seemed that with people, although he could touch and feel, he couldn’t actually affect them.
But this didn’t dampen his enthusiasm.
He intensified his stroking of First's hair, up and down, then mischievously patting his face—it was just too fun, making him laugh until his stomach hurt. Usually, First hated people messing with his hair the most, and although Khaotung was an exception, he still couldn’t avoid complaints. But now, First was completely a toy in his hands.
On a whim, he turned around and sat right down on First’s lap. This rare attempt felt novel to him.
He turned to look at the bus window. In the reflection on the glass, a completely naked man was straddling First’s legs. First was fully dressed, and his own bare body, contrasted against his friend’s dark pants… radiated some indescribable eroticism.
In the reflection, his previously soft cock was now, at some point, fully erect, showing a full outline.
This made him want to roar for the third time today: What the fuck is this?
Was it because he’d been staying up too late playing games lately, neglecting his physical needs? Was he so horny that just straddling his friend’s lap could make his cock hard?
But undeniable, at this moment, his heart… did feel a little itchy. Anyway, he was just a consciousness; no one could see him. Jerking off openly in front of everyone—was there anything more exciting than this?
He could do it… right? Just for fun, just… a little enjoyment.
His trembling fingers wrapped around his increasingly engorged cock. His fingertips tentatively stroked from the base slowly to the tip. After feeling some pleasure, he fully enveloped the shaft in his palm, his thumb and forefinger tightening, his knuckles turning white with force, and began continuously stroking up and down along the cock’s ridges.
The glans had long been oozing slick pre-cum. The clear fluid wet the spaces between his fingers, shiny threads connecting his shaft and hand, stretching and breaking with each stroke.
This natural lubrication made each stroke smoother and wetter. The tingling pleasure spread wildly from his fingertips. His movements became faster and harder; the earlier hesitation and clumsiness were completely swallowed by his body’s honest reaction.
And his hearing wasn’t impaired. Beyond the lewd sounds of skin rubbing against cock, the chatter and noise of his colleagues around him were still perfectly clear. Even though he knew he was in a different space from them, intense shame washed over him. It was as if he were being watched by everyone as he masturbated—and while straddling his best friend’s lap, no less…
He didn’t dare look anywhere else, his gaze locked firmly on the reflection in the window.
In the reflection, his head was thrown back from the intense stimulation, his body arching into a vulnerable curve. The two erect nipples on his chest trembled slightly in the air with each panting breath.
His legs were spread wide open, in a position that invited being fucked. His ass was pressed tightly against his friend’s thigh, looking like a promiscuous ride.
The cleft of his ass was faintly grinding against the area beneath First’s crotch. Although First wasn’t fully hard, and there was still a layer of denim between them, his cock had a certain hardness and weight to it, enough for the entrance between Khaotung’s ass cheeks to be rubbed by the rough fabric, sending waves of pleasure through him.
In the reflection, his buttocks began to sway back and forth unconsciously. With each movement, his ass crashed more heavily against the root of First’s thigh.
He was about to—about to cum.
He desperately wished the hand wrapped around him belonged to his friend, not himself.
With each movement, he could clearly feel the outline of the other’s cock between his ass cheeks. He even began to fantasize about pulling down First’s pants, pressing his friend’s cock directly against his wet entrance, forcing it inside—but he couldn’t; he couldn’t actually interfere with reality.
So he could only stroke himself faster, his fingertips scraping and teasing the slit that kept oozing wet, sticky fluid.
He closed his eyes and began to fantasize, losing more and more control. The hand holding his cock was his friend’s, with distinct knuckles, long and warm. His friend tightly encircled the base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger, stroking upward again and again, from the balls to the tip, every ridge carefully attended to.
And his hole was no longer empty, but was instead brutally pierced by his friend's cock, thrusting in rhythm with his swaying movements, molding his inner flesh to perfectly conform to the shaft's shape. When the overwhelming sensations made him try to rise and escape, his friend firmly gripped his waist, forcing him down again—plunging deeper than ever before.
He let himself collapse backward, leaning completely into First’s embrace. His friend’s chest was against his back; he could hear the breathing right next to his ear. He imagined that steady breathing as passionate moans, imagined First hoarsely calling his name.
“Friend, riding so good… did you want me to fuck you with my cock all along?”
“So you’re this lewd, huh? You like doing it in front of so many people…”
The real First would never talk to him like that. His friend was always gentle and polite. And he, at this moment, was despicable and shameless, directing the most transgressive fantasies at his most treasured person.
Along with these imaginings, Khaotung’s abdomen tightened wave after wave. Thick, white cum shot out violently, one spurt after another. He gasped for breath, weakened, and fell backward onto First’s chest.
First’s breath brushed over his sweaty neck, making his half-soft glans twitch and squeeze out a few more drops of cum, which slid down his still-hard cock, over his own thigh, and finally… dripped onto First, leaving a dark, sticky, wet stain.
???
He could actually affect reality?! Was it because… his bodily fluids could penetrate this space? No time to think carefully; massive panic instantly flushed his face bright red.
This was so fucking awkward. Jerking off on his friend’s lap was one thing—after all, he thought no one would find out, so it was no different from a wet dream. But actually getting cum on his friend’s clothes was something else entirely!
Would there be a smell? Would First notice?
Khaotung jerked upright, watching helplessly as the hem of First’s T-shirt was also stained with many white streaks, even more obvious than on the pants. And just then, First’s eyelashes fluttered a few times—he was about to wake up.
The newly awakened First noticed the abnormality of his clothes immediately. He looked down, then turned his head to look at the still-sleeping “Khaotung” beside him, seemingly thinking his friend had accidentally spilled a drink.
First didn’t think much more about it, but the wet, sticky clothes against his skin were really uncomfortable. He simply took off the soiled T-shirt and bent over to rummage through his backpack at his feet for a change of clothes.
So, now before Khaotung was a completely shirtless First.
His chest was pale and smooth, the lines of his pectoral muscles flowing and full, flexible and possessing a certain strength. Light pink nipples were situated there, even the areolas were extremely pale, rising and falling gently with his movements. The skin on his chest glowed with a healthy sheen in the bus light, making one imagine the warmth and elasticity under a fingertip’s touch.
Now… now there was still a chance. To feel the texture of his friend’s chest.
Khaotung reached out a trembling hand and pressed against that chest, tracing its feel. It was indeed full and soft.
He pressed his palm against the light pink, still-soft nipple. His fingertips continuously kneaded and circled around the nipple, lightly scratching the sensitive edges of the areola with his nails.
Then he was no longer satisfied with局部 teasing. He fully spread both hands, gripping and kneading his friend’s two pectoral muscles tightly, his fingertips pulling outward on the full muscles, wanting to tear them out by the roots.
He imagined how that skin would grow feverish under his kneading, the nipples swelling to a glossy sheen from his teasing, the breasts pulled and molded into lewd shapes within his palms.
He imagined how the soft breasts would flush red, how the marks of his palms would be left on them from his playing, like they were branded by him, displayed for everyone around to see.
He imagined how his friend would be unable to stop trembling, letting out hungry moans, begging him to grip harder, automatically thrusting his breasts into his palms.
Although in reality, none of these fantasies would happen. That chest remained pristine and unchanged.
First quickly changed into clean clothes. Khaotung’s crazy adventure on the bus seemed to be over. A sense of emptiness washed over him. He didn’t dare continue teasing his now-awake friend and felt ashamed of his completely transgressive actions and fantasies just now…
He began to worry about how his consciousness could return to his body.
While brooding, Joong suddenly called the awakened First over, seemingly wanting to take a group photo together. First immediately got up with a smile and walked toward Joong’s seat.
Khaotung followed, but the scene he saw made him bitter. His friend was now intimately squeezed next to Joong, their shoulders pressed together, thighs against thighs, almost seamless.
His friend wore a brilliant smile Khaotung knew all too well, but that tenderness was now directed at someone else. They put their heads together to adjust the phone’s selfie filter. First even playfully pretended to kiss Joong’s cheek.
Khaotung stood rigidly across from them, irritation continuously washing over him. He wanted to snatch their phone, to interrupt this glaring intimacy, but his outstretched hand just uselessly passed through the device.
He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t allowed.
He never had the right to interfere with First’s social interactions, even though they were close friends who had known each other for seven years. Even when sober, he couldn’t utter a single possessive word, let alone now, in this absurd state of a soul?
A lemon was crushed right on his heart, its juice splashing all over his insides.
Those two smiling faces drew closer and closer, so he could only watch First’s smile bloom for someone else, watch that intimacy that once belonged to them be invaded.
Fir, if only you were mine alone.
This feeling, no one could know, impossible to convey.
Suddenly, a sharp, intense pain shot through him, and his consciousness was instantly swallowed by darkness. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself fully dressed and seated properly in his chair. As he turned his head, he happened to meet First's gaze directed at him.
“What’s wrong, friend?” Perhaps his expression was too strange; First’s tone held obvious concern.
Fir, if only you were mine alone.
Say it. Tell him. He wanted his brilliant smile reserved only for himself.
…But he just couldn’t do it.
“…Nothing. How much longer until we arrive?”
SwallaShalla Wed 20 Aug 2025 05:50PM UTC
Comment Actions
Mercurymeow Thu 21 Aug 2025 04:48PM UTC
Comment Actions
sassymefpfk Wed 20 Aug 2025 06:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
Mercurymeow Thu 21 Aug 2025 04:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
Nekonoai Sat 06 Sep 2025 07:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
Mercurymeow Sun 07 Sep 2025 06:39PM UTC
Comment Actions